If you want the contract…
My favourite king of all time is a dude named Canute; he was the monarch that believed he could hold back the tides with his power of kingly command. History fails to report on his rate of success, but I suspect it matches the efforts to discourage telephone solicitors. Not lawyers or barristers, solicitors. Telemarketers. I imagine that if ever a “do not call list” is actually put into place, we’ll still have people phoning at 19h30 to see if we’re interested in being included/removed.
I just got off the phone with a man with an offer that is hard to refuse. He wanted to care for my lawn. Bald spots, doggie dew, salt residue; I have a testing ground ready for any specialist that cares to take the challenge. There’s one tiny audition needed; if the company is willing to start next week, right after Groundhog Day, by mowing the grass that is left over from last summer, then the contract is theirs.
My explanation of the “quest” didn’t receive much enthusiasm. Since I hadn’t hung up the phone within 1.2 seconds, or blown a siren into the mouthpiece, he must have been encouraged by my open spirit. My rebuttal was unequivocal; if the contract was that important that he’d phone me with the wrong name and all, on a quiet Thursday evening, then some seriousness would have to be demonstrated. No mowing, no contracting. The call ended on a polite tone, although my significant other doesn’t understand my approach.
It’s clear. If I am whacky enough with the telemarketing industry, every call, then perhaps they’ll lose my number. It has to work as well as the “no call list”. In passing, twenty minutes have passed and he hasn’t called back, so I guess my lawncare challenge wasn’t enticing enough. This time (I am an optimist).
